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Patton looked at his reflection in the mirror and saw his conflicting feelings dancing upon his face. His swirling, churning feelings surrounding his Angel of Music muddled his thoughts as he questioned its existence. Was it as Logan and Virgil had said? Was the Angel simply his own imagination, a coping mechanism made real to cope for after the death of his mother?
He swallowed thickly, gazing once again into his dressing table mirror, and then gasped. In the reflection, the mirror on the wall behind him warped and faded, leaving behind…a doorway?
Smoke billowed out into the room, and Patton’s breath caught in his throat as the candles in the room suddenly extinguished one by one, starting from the mirror closing in on his dressing table.
“Insolent boy! How dare he bask in my glory…in your victory?!” A musical voice, melodious yet masterful, filled the bedroom ominously. Patton stood from his chair, gazing into the haze of the mirror-now-doorway. The silhouette of a figure loomed, but his appearance remained in shadow.
“Angel of Music…” Patton whispered, his voice returning. “Please..I was weak. Forgive me. Guide me, Master.”
“Your words are sweet, my darling,” the voice replied, now softened. “It is time you learned of me. Turn your face to the mirror - I am there inside!”
Tentatively, the young man took a step towards the mirror - and finally, he saw.
Standing amongst the fog was a man much like himself, perhaps a three or four years older. His posture was perfect, he held himself like a Lord, and his clothes reflected such; a pristine waistcoat, shirt as pure as a lamb’s coat, and a great billowing cape that enveloped all - in his lapel, a gorgeous red rose tied with an ebony black ribbon, much like the one that had appeared on Patton’s dressing table.
But what was most shocking about this figure was his face. The left side, the image of a young man, courteous and welcoming, beckoning Patton in…the right, hidden away by a white porcelain mask, cold and unnerving.
The figure slowly lifted up a hand, the palm facing upwards for Patton to take. Suddenly, his voice overtook all of Patton’s senses - a velvety, caressing voice, alluring him in.
“I am your angel of music…come to me, angel of music…”
Patton took another step forwards, his ears attuned to the voice. He felt lulled into a trance-like state…the figures voice was all he could hear. All that he could feel. All he would ever need and desire.
“I am your angel of music….”
“Patton? Are you alright? Who’s is that voice?” It was Logan, his voice muffled on the other side of the door, come to collect Patton for their date.
But Patton wasn’t there. Not mentally, anyway. His eyes fluttered shut. All he could hear was his angel.
“…come to me, angel of music…”
Patton took another step forwards, his white pumps now enveloped in smoke. He blinked slowly, still mesmerised by that gorgeous, velvety voice. And slowly…slowly…he took the figures hand.
The man smiled, the only whole thing about him, and Patton felt a pull as he was ushered through the mirror, into a dark hallway. In his ears, a beautiful organ began to play a melody, reaching wonderful crescendos that echoed in his head. But the dream persisted even stronger - Patton smiled back at his angel as they walked further and further down the darkened secret tunnel. Golden hands holding candelabras stuck out of the wall, moving slightly to light their way as the two stumbled further and further inside.
He glanced back, seeing the mirror swing shut behind, locking him in with this strange person. But…he found he wasn’t scared. He felt his senses dull, the trance taking over his mind. It was all he would ever need to know.
“And do I dream again….? For now I find…
The Phantom of the Opera is there! Inside my mind…”
Patton sung to the melody that played emphatically inside his head, resonating with his senses. It snatched away all rebellious thoughts until his brain grew dumb and quietened, but his voice ringing ever true.
“Sing once again with me, our strange duet.” The voice hushed his fears, squashing the distress.
“My power over you, grows stronger yet.” The ominous words fell on deaf ears.
“And though you turn from me to glance behind, the Phantom of the Opera is there…inside your mind!”
The Phantom led them both to a boat, seemingly floating on a strange moat. Ordinarily, Patton would have questioned the presence of a water-body underneath a theatre, but the music washed over him once again, subduing the disobedient thoughts back into repose.
Without hesitation, Patton sat at the front of the gondola, and the Phantom stood behind, producing a grand staff from inside his cloak (where did he get…?) and used it to guide them along.
The music grew ever louder, a rich melody that swirled the senses and twisted the mind. Patton thought of his mother, and whether she knew of this strange, wonderful Angel.
Out of the water rose more candles, guiding the way (strange, they’re already lit-), turning the duet towards a wrought iron gate that slowly began to open on their approach. It’s as if he commanded all, took over all…master of all…my master of music…
“The Phantom of the Opera is there…inside your mind…”
“He’s there…the Phantom of the Opera!”
Patton vocalised, his words echoing through the marble arches of this dank, dark underground, gazing upwards towards the imprisoned heavens of this new room.
“Sing, my angel of music…” The Phantom commanded, and Patton complied, vocalising a note to duet with the beautiful organ playing in his head. It rang loud and clear…a soprano.
“Sing, my angel…!” Patton found himself obeying again, higher this time, a beautiful melody emanating from his lungs. The haze in his mind cleared a little, and he began to see his surroundings….
“Sing for me!” The tunnel broadened, the cave’s ceiling lifted, and brick platforms made themselves plain. A grand organ surrounded by candelabras played with no musician to govern it.
Patton began to wonder if his voice was music, or a cry for help, buried beneath the theatre, enveloped in this grand song, controlled by a musical master.
“Sing my angel!” Patton’s voice climbed higher still, and the fog lifted further. Patton’s eyes widened at his own power. He’d never before reached heights like this, and his lungs burned, screaming out in the lack of air.
He gasped, a pause between the notes, a quickly stolen breath, please he needed-
“SING!” Patton expelled a note higher than he had ever reached, the vibrations causing the water to ripple, the boat to sway. His lost melody, a fading canary cry.